The Great War
by wierddude88
Summary: In the Fourth Era, the year 171 Tamriel was forever changed as the Aldmeri Dominion began a brutal and relentless campaign against a weakened Empire. This story brings to light the tales of people, both man and mer, who played crucial roles in deciding the fate of all people who call Tamriel home. Told from multiple perspectives, this story chronicles the events of the Great War.
1. 30th of Frostfall

**Author's Note: So, for those of you reading this, this is my first time posting anything here. Please let me know if you see any formatting errors I could fix to make these better. Also, let me know if you like this story. Seriously, I hope you guys enjoy this story.**

 **Chapter One: The 30th of Frostfall**

It was a fine day in the Imperial City. The sun was shining, the people were happy, and Emperor Titus Mede II had few problems to deal with. At least, that had been the case until a messenger had arrived with disturbing news. An ambassador from the Aldmeri Dominion had arrived in the city, and was demanding an audience with Titus. That worried him. The Aldmeri Dominion had avoided contact for years and now they sent an ambassador bearing gifts. It was troubling considering who Titus was dealing with.

What had started as a simple power-grab during the turmolt of the Oblivion Crisis had turned into the beginnings of something far more nefarious when the Thalmor declared the Summerset Isles seceded from the Empire. The new kingdom of Alinor had quickly grabbed power throughout the south of Tamriel, staging a coup in the province of Valenwood and bringing them into the fold of the resurrected Aldmeri Dominion. Decades later, the Void Nights happened and once more the Thalmor used a tragedy to gain power and influence.

When the moons Secunda and Masser disappeared, the Khajiit of Elsweyr were thrown into disarray. Without the guiding influence of the moons and the Lunar Lattice, the Khajiit were unable to have children for two years causing immense distress throughout their culture. So, when the moons returned two years after their disappearance, the Khajiit were more than happy to accept the explanation the Thalmor offered as they took credit for the moons' return. A few decades letter, Elsweyr seceded from the Empire and split into the kingdoms of old, becoming servants to the Aldmeri Dominion. That had been five decades before Titus had ascended to the throne.

Now, as the Emperor, Titus had been forced to watch as the Aldmeri Dominion grew more powerful and more bold. That, coupled with the devastation in Morrowind, the civil war in Hammerfell, and the secession of Black Marsh, had done much harm to the Empire in the Fourth Era. Titus had been working to try and strengthen the Empire back to its days of glory, but he had little success. So, he sat on his throne and waited for an ambassador from the greatest threat to the Empire to deliver a message.

Titus observed the room as he waited. The throne room was a marble construction that resembled a colossal hallway. It was nearly a hundred meters long and thirty meters across with marble pillars supporting the ceiling that dwelled far above the heads of those who stood in the room. There were chairs along the walls for petitioners, advisors, and the curious to sit in as he held court to hear people's issues. A length of red carpet trimmed with black ran from the base of the dais that the throne sat on to the doors that provided entrance to the room. As Titus watched, those doors opened. The doors were large and constructed of sturdy wood, but they moved nearly silently until they settled with a resounding boom. Titus Mede II watched as a tall, Altmer man strode confidently down the length of carpet. Behind him, a member of the palace staff was pulling a fairly good-sized cart covered with a piece of cloth. Titus could feel anxiety building in his chest. He had grown wary of the Thalmor and their agents in recent years, and seeing one of them in his throne room with a cart of something caused him to worry about what this meeting was about.

As the ambassador approached, the Emperor got a better look at him. He was of average height for an Altmer, reaching around six and a half feet tall. He had the usual pale golden complexion of his species, nondescript features, and even his hair was a traditional Altmeri cut. As Titus sized up the mer he found him to be completely unremarkable in every aspect of his physiology. That made Titus worry all the more. Because, to have risen to power in a conceited place like Alinor without looking handsome, the man before the Emperor must be either a brilliant man, a powerful wizard, or a skilled warrior. Or all three.

The ambassador finally reached the dais after what felt like years. He stopped and waited for the cart to be brought to his side before acknowledging the Emperor. Once the cart had come to a halt and the servant walked away, the ambassador looked the Emperor in the eye and began to speak. "Titus Mede II, Emperor of Cyrodiil, the Aldmeri Dominion stands poised to bring your pitiful Empire down and to reclaim our right to rule over man." The man's voice was clear and calm and it echoed throughout the room. The people throughout the room all quieted and stared at the bold man who had basically just issued a threat to not only the most powerful man in all of Tamriel, but to all men in Tamriel.

"However, the war would be bloody and we would waste unnecessary lives in it. So, I have been sent with a list of conditions for you. Accept them, and you can keep your weak little Empire around for a few years more." The altmer began reading a long list of demands, including things such as disbanding the Blades, ceding most of Hammerfell to the Dominion, and banning the worship of Talos. Titus could feel the blood rising in his face as he became more and more angry with the ridiculous arrogance of the Thalmor. He managed to restrain himself until the ambassador finally stopped talking. Then, as the crowd of people in the room turned to lay their eyes on the Emperor, to see history in the making, Titus Mede II stood.

"How. Dare. You." Titus spoke. His voice was deep by nature, but the rage that had taken hold throughout him caused it to sound like distant thunder that echoed throughout the length of the room, even though he spoke quietly. "Go. Go! Return to your masters and tell them that the Empire is not as weak as it appears! We will NOT! I repeat NOT give in to tyrants and sycophants who preach of superiority! Mer ruled over the people of Tamriel once before, and I will see this Empire follow Yokunda into the sea before I let elves make slaves of honest people once more."

The room erupted in cheers of support for the Empire and her Emperor as Titus finished his proclamation. The ambassador had an arrogant smirk on his face and Titus could tell that the Altmer man believed the Emperor was a fool for thinking he could stand up to the might of the Dominion. He wasn't the only one. The Emperor's military advisors stood near the throne and often gave subtle gestures to Titus to let him know of their opinion on certain matters, when they didn't have the time to privately discuss things. Right now, they were subtly shaking their heads in warning. Titus knew them well enough to understand their meaning. They didn't believe that the Empire had the military strength to support his claims of defending the Empire and her people. They weren't entirely wrong either. Titus knew that the Empire was not as strong as it had been during the Septim dynasty, but he also had eighteen legions under his command. He felt that surely that must be enough men to fight against the Dominion and its forces.

The ambassador spoke, "Titus, you should reconsider. You might say otherwise, but everyone in this room knows the truth. The Empire doesn't have the strength to fight against the superiority of the Aldmeri Dominion. If you try it, your majesty, you shall certainly fail. Better to accept these demands and live to see another day."

"I can't accept that. The Empire will not fall. The Empire will stand against the Dominion. We won't forsake Hammerfell. We won't go back to those dark days before the time of man. The Empire will stand, as it has for thousands of years, in defense of all of Tamriel. Whether it is the Nords of Skyrim, the Redguards of Hammerfell, the Dunmer of Morrowind, or even the loyal Bosmer and Khajiit who stayed true to the Empire when their governments betrayed it, the Empire will defend its people." Titus spoke firmly. He met the ambassadors gaze and stared him down. Titus Mede II was tall for an Imperial, and standing on top of the dais as he was, he easily loomed over the Altmer. "As I said. Leave this place. Go back to Alinor and tell your masters that the Empire will not bow to their whims. We stood through the Oblivion Crisis and we can stand through a few elves with overinflated egos trying to tell us what to do."

The ambassador eyes narrowed and Titus saw his jaw clench. "Well your majesty," the ambassador spoke, venom dripping from his every word, "I think that I should show you the gifts that 'a few elves with overinflated egos' sent you." As he finished he pulled the cloth off of the cart and tipped it over. Gasps and screams sounded from the crowd as dozens of heads rolled across the floor of the throne room. "Here, I hope you enjoy it."

Titus roared for his guards to apprehend the ambassador as he stepped down the dais and examined the heads. His heart sank and that ominous feeling in his chest returned in force as he realized he knew who these people were. He didn't recognize all of the heads, but he recognized a few. They were some of the finest warriors in all of Tamriel, and some of the greatest agents for covert operations. They hadn't answered to the Emperor for nearly two hundred years, but they had been working to protect the Empire all the same. The heads belonged to members of the Blades. Blades who had been in the Aldmeri Dominion partially at the behest of Titus.

Only a month after Titus's coronation, the Grandmaster of the Blades had gone to the newly crowned Emperor. He had warned Titus of the threat of the Aldmeri Dominion, of the Thalmor, a threat that Titus was all too aware of. The Grandmaster explained to Titus that the Blades were in Alinor and Valenwood fighting a shadow war against the Thalmor, and that Titus's father had been secretly supporting the Blades. Titus had pledged the Empire's continued support, in secret, to the Blades in exchange for regular reports. The Grandmaster had agreed, and so amends had been made between the Emperor and the Blades.

Now, Titus turned to the ambassador and raged consumed the Emperor. The palace guards had moved to arrest the ambassador, but the Altmer had shown why the Emperor had been right to be wary of him. He had pulled a longsword from beneath his robes and quickly slewn two of the guards with it before bringing down a third with a burst of lightning, all within the matter of mere moments it took for Titus to get over his shock. The other guards had backed up and were standing defensively.

Titus drew his own sword and approached the ambassador. The Mede family had seized the Ruby Throne through martial might, and as such, every member of the royal family had trained in the arts of warfare and combat from the time they could hold a stick since then. With over twenty years of training under his belt, Titus Mede II was a great swordsman in his own right and his men knew it. They backed away from the ambassador in order to give their Emperor room to fight. Only the Captain of the Guard, Corvus Valius, tried to stop him, but Titus waved him away. He had been forced to watch, helpless, as the Aldmeri Dominion had corrupted Tamriel. Now though, he could fight back.

Titus got within range of the ambassador and immediately launched into a vicious assault. With his impressive skill and with rage fueling his movements the ambassador was quickly put on the defensive as blow after blow fell upon him. The ambassador managed to block most of the strikes, and was able to evade the few that slipped past his defenses. Once he got a feeling for the Emperor's movements and timing, he attempted to send a bolt of lightning into Titus's chest. However, Titus had been waiting for some sort of magic and saw the attack coming as soon as the ambassador's hand twitched. Titus used it as an opening and drove his blade through the ambassador's chest.

As the ambassador fell, Titus turned and looked at the people who had been watching the events as they transpired. Most all of them were wide-eyed from shock and fear over what had just transpired. Titus addressed them loudly, " People of the Empire, you have just witnessed the beginning of a war. This war will not be easy, it will not be short. It will be a long and bloody affair just as you saw today." Titus gestured to the upturned cart and the casualties of the fight. "The Empire is about to face one of the greatest enemies we have ever had to face. But, we will prevail. The Empire is a place for all peoples of Nirn, and all people will stand united against the death and devastation that the Aldmeri Dominion brings. We will stand tall, we will fight, and we, will, win!" Once more, cheers sounded throughout the throne room, but these cheers were far more quiet and reserved than earlier. The people had seen death, and it had not been kind. Unfortunately, Titus knew that they were likely to see far more death, and far worse than that, in the days to come.

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 **Author's Note: If you've made it this far, I assume you're happy with the story and curious about what's going to happen next. The plan at this point is to write somewhere around fifteen-twenty chapters with each one focusing on a different event that happened during the Great War. However, if I get a lot of support for this story I might change that and write more. So, please leave a review and let me know any suggestions, thoughts, opinions, praise, or critiques.**


	2. And So It Begins

**Chapter 2: And So It Begins**

Lord Naarifin watched with immense satisfaction as the city of Leyawiin fell to his army. The attack had been swift and ruthless, taking the weak Imperials off-guard and breaking their spirits. How quickly the Aldmeri Dominion had forced the pitiful Emperor to eat his words of defiance.

Even though the ambassador the Aldmeri Dominion had sent to negotiate with Titus Mede II had never reported back, the spies that the Thalmor had placed in the Imperial Court had. The Thalmor Council had declared war and sent orders to the commanders of the Dominion's mighty armies to launch an invasion that was nearly a year in the making. So, Lord Naarifin and Lady Arannelya had followed orders and showed the men of Tamriel just how weak they really were.

It had only been a week since the Emperor had refused the Aldmeri Dominion when Lord Naarifin led his men out of hidden camps in northern Elsweyr into Cyrodiil. He had sent a sizable part of his forces to flank the Imperial legions that had been assigned to guard the Valenwood border since the Dominion's threat. The legions quickly fell and the way was paved for Lady Arannelya to lead her forces from Valenwood north to Hammerfell, crossing across Cyrodiil without running into any Imperial defenses. Meanwhile, Naarifin had taken the rest of his troops and began to siege the port city of Leyawiin in order to clear a path for the Aldmeri navy to sail up the Niben. The city had a large force assigned to guard it, but they were caught unprepared as the Aldmeri forces began their attack. It was as quick as it was brutal.

When the Aldmeri forces approached Leyawiin, a large force of legionnaires and local guardsmen had been gathered outside of the city walls. They had planned on meeting what they had foolishly assumed was going to be a small army on an open field and prevent a lengthy siege. Lord Naarifin had given the order, and hundreds of Thalmor spellcasters had launched bolts of destructive magic at their foes. The would-be defenders of Leyawiin were caught off-guard by this sudden and decisive strike that cut down nearly half of their forces. They quickly retreated behind the walls of the city.

Once there, the legionnaires had planned on using their archery skills to slowly whittle down the Dominion soldiers that threatened the city they had been ordered to protect. As such, they lined the fortifications that crowned the walls surrounding the city. What they had failed to realize was just how accurate Bosmer archers were. Once more, Lord Naarifin gave an order and it was carried out with terrible efficiency. At his word, a cloud of arrows had flown into the defenders and soon the walls were empty as the defenders fell before the onslaught. With most all of their enemies dead, the Dominion forces just needed to get inside the city to secure it for the Aldmeri Dominion. Therefore, the Khajiit brought forth an enormous battering ram made of thick, solid wood with an elaborate ebony head. It was carried by the giant Senche-raht, the battlecats of the Khajiit, and they led it to the gates of Leyawiin. Currently, Dominion soldiers were using the battering ram to obliterate the gate that stood as an obstacle between them and their enemies. When it finally gave way, Lord Naarifin's army charged into the city of Leyawiin.

Naarifin smiled as he rode into battle and enjoyed the slaughter as he cut down guards, legionnaires, and citizens alike. These men and women were cur and didn't deserve to live in the new world that was coming. His entourage of fellow Altmer Lords and Ladies was with him as they cut a swath towards the castle. Every one of them shared his vision of a Tamriel unified under the rule of the Altmer and they were all fiercely loyal to him. Even Naarifin's wife, Lilitha, was among this entourage of dedicated warriors.

On the way to the castle, Lord Naarifin's party encountered an obstacle. The legionnaires and guards that had been posted to defend the castle and its Count formed a shield wall on the bridge leading to said castle in a desperate attempt to hold off the Aldmeri invaders. Naarifin reigned in his horse and looked upon them with pity and contempt. Pity, because they really thought they could stop him and his army. Contempt, because they had tried. Naarifin raised his hand and a bright white light flew forth from his palm, striking the middle of the shieldwall. There was a deafening crack in the air and the smell of burning flesh as a wave of fire exploded and consumed all of those in the shieldwall. They died before there was even a chance to scream. Naarifin and company rode over the charred remains and on to the castle. Once there, he dismounted along with his companions. This was an important moment. The first city to fall to the Aldmeri Dominion as they reclaimed what was rightfully theirs. He wanted other Altmer to be here so that they could all bask in the glory together. Who better than his trusted advisors, friends, and his wife? As he had this thought she approached him from behind and slipped a slender arm around his waist.

"Shall we?" Lady Lilitha asked, gesturing to the doors that served as the last obstacle between them and the Count of Leyawiin. Lord Naarifin smiled at her. This woman was the best thing in his life, and moments like this made him appreciate her more.

"So we shall darling." He responded. Then, as one, the couple each raised an arm and sent a blast of fire into the door causing it to explode in hundreds of flaming shards that flew through the room behind it. Lord Naarifin took his wife's arm from around his waist and walked with her arm in arm followed by the other six members of his entourage. They strode into the hall, the clinking of their armor echoing off of the walls as the clamor of battle still sounded from the city. Naarifin smiled coldly at the man who sat on the simple throne at the end of the hall. Naarifin supposed he was a handsome man for an Imperial. He had shoulder length hair that was dark brown and curled in slight waves. His eyes were a deep, emerald green and he had strong features. In short he looked entirely different from Naarifin who had sharp features, short silver hair, and golden eyes. Naarifin continued walking forward until he stopped mere feet from the Count. The Count looked at him and spoke.

"You've slaughtered my men, murdered my people, and destroyed my home." The Count said quietly. His voice was strained with grief as he lowered his head to cradle it in his hands. He was a young man who couldn't have seen more than forty years, but he appeared extremely old and tired at this moment. "You are going to kill me. I have no illusions about this. But would you permit me to tell you something?"

Lord Naarifin looked at the man with some measure of respect. He could respect a man who felt the loss of his people, lowly as they were, as a loss to himself. The Count was clearly feeling grief and loss over the massacre of his people. He could also respect a man who didn't stubbornly fight death but rather accepted it with grace. So he nodded, "Go ahead."

The Count lifted his face from his hands and Naarifin was surprised to see a fire burning in those emerald spheres. Those were not the eyes of a defeated man, of a man who was looking death in the eyes. They were the eyes of the foolhardy and the courageous. They were a warrior's eyes. The Count spoke, and his voice resounded through the halls. "You have won this fight. But you will not win the war. There will come a day, a day where you see the might of man and you will fall. Talos will guide us. And when that day comes, may you rot in Oblivion." Naarifin raised an eyebrow before chuckling. The small respect that he had had for the Count had faded with his words of petty defiance and stupidity. Naarifin strode forward, drawing his sword as he did so. When he reached the Count he went to slide the blade into the man's chest but the Count leapt forward with surprising speed and stabbed a dagger he had kept hidden into Naarifin's side. Naarifin let out a cry of pain as the dagger cut through his elven armor. Naarifin twisted throwing the Count to the ground. He raised his sword to deal the final blow when he noticed the blood already dripping from the blade. He looked down at the Count and saw the red flower blossoming across his stomach. Naarifin didn't bother to put the Count out of his misery.

Later that evening, Naarifin sat in what had been the Count's personal chambers drafting a report to be sent to the Thalmor Council that sat in power in Alinor. While this campaign had originally been meant to distract the Empire from the conquest that Lady Arannelya would be performing in Hammerfell, today had shown Naarifin a different possibility. The Dominion had known the Empire was weak, but not this weak. Naarifin had barely lost any soldiers in taking Leyawiin and his own wound had been among the most severe. Luckily, that meant that the wounds throughout the army had all been easily healed by minor restoration spells as was his own. So, he was sending a proposal to the Council to convince them that now was the time to topple the entire Empire, instead of merely taking a chunk of it. He hoped they would listen.

As Naarifin was finishing his report Lilitha quietly walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She leaned over his shoulder and studied the letter. "So," she said, "you really think we can take out the entire Empire?" Her voice was quiet, and she seemed to be open to the idea.

Naarifin nodded. "I do. You saw what happened today. The pathetic humans couldn't stand against us and we have every right to rule them." Lilitha shrugged, causing her long, strawberry hair to brush gently across Naarifin's face. He turned and gave his love a kiss before returning to his work.

Lilitha smiled and walked over to the bed before climbing in. Naarifin heard her breathing slow as she fell asleep. He finished his letter before standing up walking out onto the balcony that was attached to this room. He leaned against the railing and looked to the north. It was a cool night out, as Sun's Dusk began to take a hold of the weather. But, after a hot day full of battle, the chill was pleasant. Naarifin felt as though he could almost make out the silhouette of the White-Gold Tower, there in the distance. He looked back into the room at the gorgeous figure who shared his bed. He couldn't help but smile. They had been married for nearly a century and he was still madly in love with her. He sighed and turned towards where he figured the White-Gold Tower was. He had nothing but disdain for the races of Man, but he loved his own people deeply. The Altmer were given Divine right to rule the world, no false Divine changed that. And there, in the White-Tower, there lay his people's destiny. Out in that quiet night, miles up the Niben, sat the Imperial City, the cruel heart of this weak Empire. So, for his people, for his wife, Naarifin knew he had to do whatever it took to cut it out. Only then could his people rule the world. Only then could there be peace.

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 **Author's Note: I hope everybody enjoys this story so far. If you do, or even if you don't, please leave a review and let me know why! Also, this story will be updated every Monday so follow the story if you want keep up-to-date! Thanks everybody and have a nice day!**


	3. No Water, No Hope

**Chapter 3: No Water, No Hope**

General Decianus watched a man collapse into the sands of the Alik'r Desert as the lack of water finally took hold. It was the seventeenth time today he'd seen a man fall, and they'd only been marching for two hours. It was also the forty-fifth time he'd had to leave a man behind to die in this gods-forsaken desert.

As Decianus trudged onward, leading a host of desperate legionnaires through this wasteland, he couldn't help but reflect on the disasters that had put him in this predicament. He looked around at the weathered faces, burning under the cruel sun and marred by lines of pain as they slowly withered away without any water to drink. He remembered when they had been full of life and joy, full of hope, as the legionnaires had bravely marched against the Aldmeri invaders. Now though, there was no hope. It had ran out nearly two days ago when the last of the water had been consumed. Before that, there had been watching the Eleventh Legion die during the sack of Taneth. However, it all started when Lady Arannelya slaughtered the Ninth Legion and shattered the Tenth when she attacked Rihad.

* * *

The Emperor had sent out a message to all his generals that war with the Aldmeri Dominion was imminent, as though there could be any other outcome with what happened at the Imperial Palace. Because of that, Decianus had moved his headquarters from Sentinel to Rihad so that he could take the legions under his command south into Cyrodiil to fortify the Valenwood border if need be. At the time, he had thought it unlikely. Decianus knew that the Empire had been struggling for decades now, but he had faith that they could deal with a few spell-flingers. He couldn't have imagined how wrong he was.

It was only a day or two after Decianus and his troops had made it to Rihad when word was sent to them that the Imperial forces at the Valenwood border had been decimated by a surprise attack. To make matters worse, a large force of Aldmeri forces were marching fast for Hammerfell and their first target was sure to be Rihad. So, Decianus commanded the Ninth Legion to fortify Rihad along with Tenth Legion, while the Eleventh Legion fell back to Taneth. If Rihad fell, Taneth would be the next city to be attacked and it would need all the protection it could get. Decianus also sent out messages to Queen Malikah and King Falten, the leaders of the Crowns and Forebears respectively, to make another attempt for the two factions to settle their differences and face this foe together. It was the most recent of the dozens of letters he'd sent over the past several years to try and unify Hammerfell under Imperial law. All of them had been fruitless and he expected this letter to be the same. A few words from an old soldier weren't about to end one of, if not the, longest civil war in the history of Tamriel. But, he had to have some hope.

* * *

Decianus was brought back to the present situation when his legate, formerly one of three, Justianus Quintius tapped him on the shoulder. Decianus looked at the man. Justianus was young to be a legate, only being twenty-eight, but he was a good lad with a level head on his shoulders. However that being said, he was ruggedly handsome with more than his fair share of charm and had gotten into trouble many times for getting too "friendly" with someone else's woman. Even in this grim situation, with men and women collapsing from heat and thirst, there was a glimmer of good-natured mischief in his eyes. That spark that kept Justianus optimistic and smiling was one of the few things that had kept the remnants of the Tenth Legion from completely falling into despair.

"Sir, look!" Justianus pointed to the horizon. The sun was high in the sky and heat waves shimmered off of the coarse, orange sand but through the haze there was a column of dark shapes moving. Decianus wiped the sweat off of his brow and tried to get a better look. However, the shapes were too far away for him to figure out what they were. Whispers quickly moved through-out the ranks as it seemed that they might survive this desert of death and ruin. If these were some of the Alik'r tribesmen, then they might be willing to help out Decianus and his men. It was a gamble, as the distant figures could just as easily be bandits who wouldn't have a hard time killing off a battered and dying legion. Or, it could be nothing, and pushing the Legion's pace would only serve to push them closer to death. Yet, Decianus let himself feel some hope. As he called for a faster pace while he led the remnants Tenth Legion towards this glimmer of salvation in the distance, he recalled the obliteration of the Ninth Legion.

* * *

Lady Arannelya's forces hit Rihad like a hurricane. Fire, lightning, and ice tore into the walls surrounding the city as the forces of the Ninth Legion manned the fortifications and tried to damage the Dominion forces surrounding the city. However, their resistance didn't last long once the siege weaponry appeared. Catapults rained fire and stone upon the city and soon the main gate was shattered by a battering ram. Decianus called upon the Tenth Legion to assist in holding the Dominion forces at the ruined gates in an attempt to keep them out of Rihad. He also ordered them to provide aid to the Ninth Legion wherever they could. It was a futile attempt as their forces were being spread too thin and he knew it. The walls around Rihad were crumbling, men were being slaughtered left and right, and there was no help coming for them. Decianus looked at these facts and felt his stomach drop. For the first time in his life, he was going to have to run away with his tail between his legs. It was a humiliating feeling to say the least.

Decianus swallowed his pride and sent runners to his Legates, Justianus and Katina, to tell them to prepare for a retreat from Rihad. They had been leading their legions from forward operating posts when he had last heard from them. The runners were going to tell them to meet up with Decianus near the entrance to the city with the bulk of their forces. From there, they would all head northwest to Taneth to join forces with the Eleventh Legion against this elven army. Decianus quickly grabbed the equipment he would need while his personal guard did the same. He then gathered all of the Imperial documents he could find and set them in a pile on his table as the men around him moved to help him with his task. It was standard procedure to burn all important and compromising military documents when one had to abandon their command post. It wasn't ever something Decianus had had to do before, but there's a first time for everything. As soon as the papers were burning nicely, Decianus began leading his men to the gate. They encountered a few Aldmeri soldiers who had made it into the city and were pillaging. Fortunately, Decianus and his guard were all skilled swordsman and they made quick work of their enemies.

When he finally made it to the gate, Decianus gazed at the courtyard and the few soldiers that still fought there. The courtyard was a wide open space with the main gate and walls bordering its northern side. On every other side, it was bounded by buildings and streets that led further into Rihad. The courtyard was normally a place full of trinket peddlers hoping to get money out of travellers. However, it was now a bloody place filled with corpses and fighting soldiers. Decianus joined the fray against the Dominion forces that were fighting their way into the city, but he couldn't help but feel distraught at how few soldiers were left here.

 _If these are all of the troops I have left, we won't be making it out of here alive_ , Decianus thought. As he finished cutting down another foe, he noticed a large force of legionnaires rushing into the courtyard from the east. It was barely a third of a legion, but Decianus was grateful for any soldiers he could get. At the head of the group was a soldier carrying the standard of the Tenth Legion. As the soldiers neared Decianus, he recognized their leader and went over to meet with him.

"Justianus! I'm glad you could make it," he said, holding out a hand for his legate.

Justianus grasped it and gave it a firm shake before releasing. "So am I sir. It's brutal fighting throughout the city and only getting worse. I suggest we leave immediately sir."

Decianus shook his head. "We can't quite yet. Katina and her forces haven't made it here yet. We'll just have to-" As he was finishing, a messenger approached him and gestured for his attention. Decianus turned to the man. "Yes? What is it?"

"General," the messenger spoke, his voice shaking, "Legate Katina's post was struck by a catapult. It appears as though she died in the collapse that followed. The Ninth Legion is leaderless and I was unable to find someone who could give them the order to fall back here." The messenger knelt before Decianus as he finished his report and waited for more orders.

"Blast it all!" Decianus cursed. Katina had been a good soldier, but more importantly, she had been a good friend. She had served under Decianus for longer than anyone else, and her death hurt. But, he had a duty to do. Grief would come later, in the meanwhile, he would save who he could. "Legate, get your men and form up. We're leaving."

* * *

As the ragged group of survivors neared the figures on the horizon, Decianus could feel the days without water taking their toll on him. He had seen nearly fifty years and while he was in remarkable shape for his age, he was still getting older and the dehydration was persistently pushing him closer to the grave. Luckily though, the survivors were close enough to the group on the horizon for Decianus to see the headwraps that the tribes of Alik'r wore. It was a good sign. Most bandit groups in the area hadn't adopted the custom and the tribes might tend towards isolationist views, but they were good people and helped those who had been lost in the Alik'r.

The group of tribesmen had stopped their horses and were watching from the crest of a large sand dune as the legionnaires approached. Decianus could see them talking amongst themselves and gesturing towards his group. Then, the tribesmen rode towards Decianus and his men. It reminded him of the charge he'd led to get out of Rihad.

* * *

The remnants of the Tenth Legion had formed up in a spear formation to push out from the city gates. It was formation that had been designed for when legions had to break through enemy lines quickly and keep moving. It was basically an arrowhead formation with a marching column behind it. It would let them clear the siege line surrounding Rihad and make it to Taneth.

Decianus was torn as he gave the signal for the Legion to pull out of the city. It was the right call to make, but he felt guilty about leaving the Ninth Legion behind. With their commanding officer dead and their forces spread throughout the city, there was no way for Decianus to get the soldiers in the Ninth Legion together for an organized retreat. Also, there was the rather ruthless approach that warranted leaving soldiers behind to cover the rest of the army's retreat. It was a harsh tactic, but an effective one.

So, Decianus and the Tenth Legion charged out of the gates and cut a path through the Dominion's forces surrounding the city. Decianus was in the middle of the formation, leading the column but staying behind the front line, so he didn't see any action but the fighting was still intense. Clashes of weapons rang out and cries of pain sounded as legionnaires clashed with Dominion soldiers. It was over quickly though. The Legion cleared the siege line and started a fast march northwest to Taneth. They'd suffered losses during the escape but there was still enough soldiers to help reinforce the city for when the Dominion came knocking.

* * *

Decianus called for his soldiers to halt. Justianus approached, "Sir, I think we have a fifty-fifty shot here of either getting helped or getting violently murdered. Do you want me to have the men get ready for combat?"

Decianus shook his head. "No, no. If we take an aggressive stance they might just attack. Let's try to play nice. Besides, we're all dead anyways if they don't help." Decianus kept his eyes on the incoming riders. It was hard though as the riders appeared to keep spinning.

Justianus gave him a concerned look. "Sir, are you okay? You look rather pale."

Decianus nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." He started blinking quickly, trying to clear his vision. "Just, tired…" Decianus fell over as the riders approached. He watched as Justianus knelt over him and Decianus could see Justianus's mouth moving, but he didn't hear any words. Then, the world faded to black.

* * *

Decianus stood on a high dune with Justianus and his guard, watching as Taneth burned in the distance. The flames and the light were a stark contrast to the desert night. It had been a hard march to get here from Rihad within two days. Unfortunately, they hadn't gotten to Taneth in time. The city had been sacked and the Dominion forces had already moved on to pillage somewhere else.

Decianus had been a fool to assume that the army that had moved in from Cyrodiil was the only army that the Aldmeri Dominion was going to use to take over Hammerfell. The Thalmor had sent a fleet across the sea to deliver an invading force on the southern coast. Decianus had left the Eleventh Legion at Taneth to defend it should his forces need to fall back there. But, if the second Dominion army was anything like the first, that was not near enough men to hold Taneth. So, now Taneth was a ruin and its people were likely dead. As were the forces he'd stationed here.

Justianus began to speak a prayer for the brothers and sisters they'd lost both at Rihad and Taneth. It was an old soldier's prayer, asking for peace, comfort, and joy for the dead in whatever afterlife they believed in from whomever they believed could grant it. It was well-known and Justianus spoke loud enough for almost all of the other troops to hear in the silent desert. Many of the other legionnaires joined in and their voices rang throughout the night.

Decianus bowed his head in respect, following along quietly. He felt the grief hitting him now, along with guilt over his mistakes. It was his fault that most all of his soldiers were dead. It was his fault that Katina had died. It was his fault that Hammerfell was falling to invaders. Tears started falling down his weathered face but he didn't let any other sign of grief show. The men needed their leader, they needed the general to be strong, and most importantly, they needed hope.

That was when Decianus had taken his men on a trek across the Alik'r. He knew the Dominion would be pushing west, across the southern coast and take the cities there. So he headed north, hoping to find safety and reinforcements from High Rock in Skaven. It was the only chance the Tenth Legion had of survival. If they made it across the Alik'r, then they could regroup and fight back.

* * *

Decianus woke up to the sound of laughter. It wasn't quiet laughter, the kind you hear in normal conversation. It was raucous laughter from dozens of bodies. The kind of laughter you hear in taverns when soldiers get to drinking and swapping tales. The kind of laughter that followed Justianus around. Decianus opened his eyes, gazing at his surroundings. He was lying on a cot in a tent of some sort. It was cool in the tent and Decianus felt something he hadn't felt in a week. He felt quenched. He wasn't thirsty anymore.

Decianus got up from the cot and strode outside. He was still weak, but he actually felt better than he had before he passed out. Now, he stood in a large camp surrounding a sizable oasis. There were dozens, if not hundreds of tents spread around it, as though an entire city had settled here. Decianus was surprised. He had known that there were many Alik'r tribes in the desert, but he hadn't realized just how large those tribes could be.

The weather was cool and people were moving throughout the tents. It was early in the evening, the sun not quite finished setting, and the Alik'r tribesmen had begun cooking around campfires. Sitting around one of these fires was Justianus, who was keeping an entire crowd on tribesmen entertained with some tale. Decianus couldn't help but smile at the sight. He could see other legionnaires wandering through the camp, laughing and talking amongst themselves or with their saviors. It was nice to see hope again.

* * *

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! If you did, please leave a review to let me know why, or to offer some advice to make it better! Also, if you want to keep up-to-date with this series, please give it a follow! Have a nice day!**


	4. A Fire in the Night

**Chapter 4: A Fire in the Night**

Delphine was angry. No, she was beyond that. She was past furious, over enraged, and far more that wrathful. There was not a word in any language that adequately described the cold fire that scorched through her body. It was such a powerful emotion she felt that those flames would forever leave embers that smoldered and kept her pure, unadulterated fury at the Aldmeri Dominion going for as long as she lived, and then longer still.

Delphine was pacing in the main hall of Cloud Ruler temple as her blood boiled in her veins. The Grandmaster had called her home right before the Aldmeri Dominion began their war against the Empire. However, they had been waging a shadow war with the Blades for nearly five years before that. The Blades thought that they would be more than a match for the Thalmor and their agents, but that wasn't the case. Every encounter had been a hard-fought clash out of the public eye, and there were many encounters. Eventually though, the Thalmor got ambitious, so they sent their army out and killed every Blades agent they knew of and could get their hands on in their territory. Delphine had gotten out just in time to avoid it, but a lot of her friends hadn't.

The door that connected the main hall to the Grandmaster's quarters opened and Delphine looked as the man walked in. He was a breton of small stature and lean muscle. He was getting older and his hair was mostly the color of steel, complementing the light armor he was wearing. He had started to gather wrinkles across his face, as well as smile lines at the corners of his eyes. However, he wasn't smiling now.

"Sir." Delphine knelt before the man and bowed her head. "You asked to see me?"

The Grandmaster nodded, "I did. Now, rise and follow me. This is a conversation that requires privacy." He waited for Delphine to get up before leading her to a side room.

Delphine looked at the room. It was a big room with no windows and only one door. It had a table placed in the middle of the room with a large map of Tamriel. There were chairs placed around the table, as well as small figures placed on the map. Delphine recognized this place. It was the Blades' war room, where the Grandmaster and his trusted agents would meet and plot against the Empire's enemies. Delphine had only been in here a handful of times. She walked over to the table and looked down at the map. There were two sets of figures, one representing the Empire's Legions, and the other set represented the Aldmeri Dominion's armies. She was shocked to see just how far into Cyrodiil and Hammerfell the Dominion's forces had made it, and how few Legions there were to oppose them.

"Grandmaster, is this accurate? Rihad, Taneth, and Leyawiin have all fallen?" She asked, the fire in her growing once more as she thought of all the soldiers who had died because of the Thalmor.

The Grandmaster nodded. "I'm afraid it is. Our field agents have been sending messenger ravens with reports, and each one is darker than the last. The Empire wasn't ready for this. Just as we underestimated the Thalmor, the Empire has underestimated the Aldmeri Dominion's martial power. The Emperor needs us to lend a hand, and we need to avenge our brother's and sisters." Delphine noticed a fire, much like her own, shining in the old man's eyes as he spoke. "So, I have an assignment for you."

Delphine nodded. "Yes sir, I'll do anything you require of me."

The Grandmaster smiled. "I knew you'd say that. I need you to go south, towards Bravil. The army under Lord Naarifin's command has begun a march towards the city from Leyawiin. Your mission is to do anything in your power to sabotage that force. Kill their officers, poison their supplies, damage their equipment, whatever you can do, do it.

"I understand sir. I'll get ready to leave immediately." Delphine turned and headed towards the door. The Grandmaster called to her as she reached the door.

"Delphine, one more thing. You're one of the most capable agents we have. Only a handful of your brothers and sisters could keep up with you, and they are all already deployed to different tasks. So, you're going to have to do this alone. If I send anyone else with you, they'll slow you down. The Empire can't afford that."

Delphine smiled slyly. "Thank you Grandmaster. I prefer to work alone anyways." She left the room, and headed towards her room. It was a quiet, uneventful walk. Most of the Blades had been sent to Skyrim and High Rock to make sure that the Thalmor didn't try to blindside the Empire by striking the provinces not already directed involved in the war. Because of that, the temple was mostly empty, not that there were many Blades there at any one point anyways. In fact, most of the Blades had been involved in the fight against the Thalmor in the southern provinces. So, with one fell swoop, the Blades had actually lost the majority of their members to the Aldmeri Dominion.

Delphine arrived at her room and started packing up her few possessions. She didn't have much, only a few trinkets she'd been given as gifts from friends. So, she gathered what she owned and put them in a small satchel. Then, she put on her armor. It wasn't heavy, but she didn't wear it unless she was going into the field. However, she always kept her sword on her.

Once Delphine was ready she went to the few Blades still at Cloud Ruler and said her good-byes. She wasn't particularly close to any of them, but they were still family. They offered her various words of encouragement, and she promised each of them that she would see justice done for the family they had lost. None of them mentioned that she probably wasn't going to be coming back anytime soon, if at all. Blades were extremely talented, but they tended to die young. That was why there were so many katana's hanging throughout Cloud Ruler, and why a cart full of heads had arrived at the Imperial Palace. It was something all Blades knew about and accepted when they joined the order.

Delphine got a horse from the stable and left Cloud Ruler Temple, beginning the slow descent down from the mountain fortress. One month ago, she had rode up the mountain as her friends were slaughtered in Valenwood and the Summerset Isles. Now, she rode down the mountain as soldiers and agents of the Empire were slaughtered everywhere. She knew she had to do something about that, or that fire in her, it would consume her.

So, Delphine rode. She would ride past Bruma. She would ride down the Silver road. She would ride around the Red Ring. She would ride until she found the Aldmeri Dominion armies. Then, she would be a ghost among them. She would strike quickly and quietly. Her enemies would crumble to ash in the flame of her righteous wrath. The fire was still there. It always would be. So she'd burn her enemies with it, until there was nothing left to burn.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for how short this chapter is. I have a lot of plans for Delphine, but I had to set her up, as this is a younger more passionate Delphine than we see in Skyrim. Also, this story marks a shift that's going to become more apparent in later chapters. Instead of only recounting what was very directly stated as happening, this series is going to start involving a lot of things that very well could've happened, and might've happened for all we know. Anyways, as always please leave a review and follow if you want to keep up-to-date. I hope you enjoyed the story and I hope you have a lovely day.**


	5. Not Going Quietly

**Chapter 5: Not Going Quietly**

Hammerfell can be a harsh place. It is a land full of coarse sand that scrapes at the flesh, burning heat that scorches all it touches, and people who don't take kindly to having their lands seized from them by invaders from the south. This was a lesson that King Falten and his men were making sure to teach their would-be conquerors.

It had been less than a week since Rihad and Taneth fell to the Aldmeri Dominion. While the Imperial Legions had tucked their tails between their legs and ran off across the Alik'r Desert, Falten had struck back. He had commanded his army of Forebear warriors to strike out from their garrison in Gilane and fortify in the Dwemer ruins nearby, as he also called for the people of Gilane to evacuate and head to Sentinel. Once situated in the ruins of Volenfell, Falten began leading small groups of soldiers in a campaign of guerrilla warfare. They were met with great success.

The first day of their campaign, Falten and his men had hid among the dunes on the side of the road connecting Gilane and Taneth as the Dominion army marched along it. Falten waited until the wagons that carried the army's water supplies were moving past him before he gave the order to strike. His men charged out of the dunes with a yell that sounded like the wails of souls damned to Oblivion as they seemingly emerged from the ground itself. The ferocity and suddenness of the surprise attack unnerved the Aldmeri soldiers, and they barely managed to offer any resistance as Falten and the Forebears struck them down. Within moments nearly a hundred Aldmeri soldiers had been killed by half that many Forebears. But that wasn't the worst damage done to the Dominion army.

Every Redguard knew the importance of water. In Hammerfell, water was hard to come by anywhere outside of the coast. Plants and animals had to be especially hardy and develop extreme ways to deal with the lack of water. With the intense heat and lack of water, death by dehydration was common. Because of that, no Redguard ventured far from home without a water-pouch on his or her belt. However, the Altmer and the Bosmer of the Aldmeri Dominion weren't used to the lack of water or the heat. They didn't have the resilience to deal with the constant thirst. So, Falten had sent a dozen soldiers to sabotage the Dominion army's water supply while the rest of his men fought. In under a minute, many of the water casks were smashed open, their contents spilling to the sand. However, the Dominion had begun to recover from their initial shock so Falten gave the signal to retreat. At his word, the Forebears faded into the desert landscape once more.

That first night had been a tremendous success. The Dominion forces had lost nearly half of their water supply, suffered casualties, and Falten had only lost two men out of forty-eight. The Forbear leader's spirits were high and his soldiers were ready to follow him into battle once more. But Falten knew that they had to do more if they wanted to keep the Dominion away from Gilane long enough for the evacuation to be complete. So, the Forebears struck again the next night.

On the second day, the 13th of Sun's Dusk, the Forebears didn't bother to lay an ambush for the army of their enemies. Instead, they waited on horses, hidden by a ridge of crags near the road. Once their scout gave the word that the Dominion forces had passed by, the Forebears rode after them. They quickly caught them, and the Forebears charged the rear of the army as it trekked towards Gilane. The Dominion soldiers were more prepared this time and put up a better fight, but it wasn't enough to stop the cavalry charge that had them flanked.

It was a quick fight, that left more than a few bodies in the dust. The Forebears had the advantage, being on horseback and with the element of surprise. However, they were greatly outnumbered, and could only fight for so long before being trapped and overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Falten was in the thick of it, cutting down Altmer, Bosmer, and Khajiit soldiers as he led his men out of the mass of bodies and back into the desert. Once more, the Forebears had killed more than twice their number, but this time, they had also lost nearly a quarter of their forces.

Falten had led his troops back to Volenfell to recover and get reinforcements. Currently, Falten was sitting at a desk, reading reports from the soldiers he'd left behind to escort the people of Gilane to safety. It had apparently taken over a day for all of the citizens to gather their belongings and the supplies required for such a journey, but the refugees were now on their way to Sentinel. Unfortunately, they would have to cross a small stretch of the Alik'r in order to reach Sentinel. Falten knew that there were going to be more than a few who didn't survive that journey. But, he also knew that that was the best bet the people had of surviving the war the Dominion had thrust upon them. Falten's thoughts were interrupted by one of his commanders.

"King Falten, the men are ready for another attack. Our scouts report that the Dominion army is only day's march from Gilane, but they have stopped for the evening. If we move quickly we should be able to hit them while they're sleeping." The commander said.

Falten nodded. "Good, good. Get the men to form up so that we can move out quickly." Falten stood up and walked over to the stand that held his armor. "Inform them that we will strike at the invaders as soon as I finish getting ready."

The commander nodded and walked away. Falten was finishing tightening the last strap on his armor when he heard a cough sound from the doorway. He looked over his shoulder and his face instantly lit up with a grin. "Theodane! How are you old friend?" Falten finished with the strap and walked over to the Breton man, gripping his forearm and bringing him into a hug.

Theodane smiled as well. "Oh, I'm well enough, all things considered. That desert of yours is miserable to cross but I'm no worse for wear." Theodane's smile faded and he looked concerned. "How about you? How are you holding up with this invasion?"

Falten's grin fell away as well. "It's hard. I've already lost friends, and I know, knew, a lot of the nobles in Taneth." Falten shook his head sadly. "It's a mess here now. I had to make the call to abandon Gilane."

Theodane put a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "I know. I had was on my way there when I met the refugees. Some of them recognized me and pointed me in your direction."

Falten nodded. "That makes sense. I was wondering how you had known to find me here of all places. Speaking of which, why did you come back to Hammerfell in the first place? I thought you had decided to stay in High Rock to deal with your father's issues?"

Theodane gave a wry smile. "As if anyone could fix my family's reputation after him. No, no, I did a lot to help, but I wasn't the same person I had been when I left High Rock the first time. Or maybe I was and that was the problem. Either way it doesn't matter now. Gwynalyn didn't want me there, so I left her the family name in all its former glory and made my way back here."

Falten gave a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry things went like that. Even though I missed your company, I'd hoped the best for you when you returned to your old life. It's a shame things didn't work out for you."

Theodane shrugged. "It is what it is. At least I'm here now to help you fight off these elven bastards eh?" He smiled and patted Falten on the shoulder. "It'll be just like the old days we spent fighting the Crowns, only this time, we're fighting a bunch of weak snobs who don't know which way to hold a sword."

Falten laughed. "It's good to have you at my side again. We can talk more later, but for now, let's go have some fun." With that, Falten and Theodane walked to the gathered force of Forebear soldiers. This time, instead of only four dozen troops, Falten had gathered twice that many to make sure the Dominion soldiers felt Hammerfell's wrath. The Forebears were mounted, and as Falten and Theodane joined them, the twin moons shone down from high in the sky. It was a beautiful night, with the sands whispering quietly in a cool breeze, the moons' light painting everything in ethereal hues, and the stars burning above like an army of spirits. Falten gave the signal, and the Forebears rode towards the Dominion army.

* * *

They made it there, just as the moons were touching the horizon. The Forebears had stopped on a ridge that overlooked the massive army that spread out like a sea of fire. Torches, campfires, and forges all burned for over a mile in every direction. The collective light showed the thousands upon thousands of tents that covered the land. Banners marked different districts for Altmer, Bosmer, and Khajiit, while unique high tents were raised for the various Thalmor Lords and Ladies who led the army. Falten had thought his early raids great successes, but now he saw just how massively outnumbered the Forebears were. There was no way they could fight the Dominion on there own.

"Theodane, will you do something for me?" Falten asked his best friend.

"Of course your majesty. What is it?" Theodane replied. He spoke to Falten very formally when they were around others. As a Breton, Redguards were not fond of Theodane and tended to look for any reason to fight him. So, he was extremely well-behaved in an attempt to avoid confrontation that might get him killed and weaken Falten's power.

"I know you just got here, and I wish I could send someone else, but I can't." Falten turned away from the invading force to look his friend in the eyes. "I need you to ride north, as fast as you can. Find General Decianus and the Imperial Legion. Tell him that the Forebears would be more than happy to work with them against the Aldmeri threat. Tell him," Falten sighed, "Tell him that I will do all I can to make peace with the Crowns."

Theodane's eyes widened as this statement. "Your highness, you can't be serious. You've fought the Crowns as hard as anyone. Why make peace with the stubborn fools? With the Empire on our side that should be enough to defeat the Dominion."

Falten shook his head. "No, it won't be. Hammerfell needs unity or we won't survive this war. Now go. There's no time to waste." Theodane looked like he had something to say, but he bit his tongue and rode away. King Falten looked down at the invaders and said a prayer to his gods, Then he called for his men to ride to the bottom of the ridge. Once there, he quietly had his men ride to the outskirts of the camp. Then they half of the Forebears lit a torch to carry instead of a sword in order to burn down the camp. When all the preparations were complete, Falten let out a fierce yell, one echoed by the rest of his men as they charged into the Aldmeri camp.

Falten and his sword-wielding soldiers cut down any soldiers that they happened to encounter while the torch bearing soldiers galloped through the rows and tents, setting them ablaze. The Forebear group rode hard and fast from one side of the camp all the way to the other. The Dominion army had expected an attack of some sort and there were many sentries posted to defend the camp from the attack. As such, many of the Forebear attackers fell to the swords of the Dominion. Falten managed to get out with only a few minor cuts luckily. He checked to see that the remnants of his force were following. Seeing that they were, he took off for Volenfell with the two dozen men who still remained. Behind them, the Aldmeri forces were in disarray as hundreds of tents burned, their inhabits' screams filling the night.

* * *

Falten sat in his quarters as a healer tended to his wounds. None were life-threatening, though he had gotten a particularly nasty cut along his left leg that had torn open wider as he rode. Still, the mage was able to heal them with some minor restoration spells and soon he was completely fine, with only a single new scar. He gave the healer his thanks. He left his room and wandered the halls of the ruined Dwemer city.

Falten had always marveled at the Dwemers. A race so advanced and so powerful, that they left ruins full of broken relics that still baffled scholars hundreds of years after their disappearance. It was fascinating to him. But tonight, his mind was too busy to study the Dwemer. He was worried about his people, and he was trying to figure out a better strategy for dealing with the Aldmeri threat. He knew he couldn't overpower them, and they were getting better at defending themselves from the skirmisher tactics Redguards favored.

Falten thought on the problem for a long time, and led himself to wondering how he was going to deal with the Crowns. Queen Malikah had a deep, deep resentment of the Forebears, and the last time she had seen Falten, she had nearly stabbed him when he gave her a compliment. So, Falten wasn't sure how he was going to convince her to work with him and the Forebears to fight against the Aldmeri Dominion. There had been many instances in Redguard history of the Forebears leaving the Crowns to deal with an invasion by themselves and vice versa. Even when both groups' territory was in danger, they would only defend themselves. Falten was fighting against centuries of resentment, hatred, and tradition in trying to broker peace. It was daunting.

Falten eventually found his way back to his room. It was very nearly dawn, and he was exhausted, having been up all night. But he didn't have time to sleep. He walked over to his desk, and sat down. As he picked up his quill to begin the letter, he felt the weight of thousands of Redguards' lives in his hand. He prayed to the gods once more, asking for the strength to see this task through, and forgiveness should he fail or was wrong. Then, Falten put his quill to paper and began to write, _Your Highness, Queen Malikah..._

* * *

 **A/N: Here it is! The first true-blue major OC. Originally, Falten was supposed to be the only OC who had chapters told from his perspective, but there will be a group of adventurers in Cyrodiil who are also OC. However, I hope that you found these characters fitting into the Elder Scrolls universe smoothly. If so, or if not, let me know with a review! Also, if you want to keep up-to-date with these chapters, please give this story a follow! Lastly, for those of you who have been reading on a week-to-week basis, you may want to give the earlier chapters a re-read, as I have gone through and re-written large parts of Ch1, as well as tweaked Ch2 and Ch3 to provide a more cohesive feel with these newer chapters. As always, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and continue to enjoy what comes out in the future!**


	6. Knock, Knock

**Chapter 6: Knock, Knock**

Lord Naarifin had decided that he hated Cyrodiil. The sun was hot, the air was muggy, and annoying pests swarmed the air. It was a miserable cesspool. He supposed though, that made it a fitting place as the capital of such a sad little empire.

The past week and a half had been a wretched trip through the swamps of the Blackwood region. Many of Lord Naarifin's men had been struck down by disease forcing him to wait while they healed or died. Then, trying to move thousands of troops as well as their supplies through mud and rain had forced them into an agonizingly slow pace. After the speed at which Lord Naarifin had led his men to conquer Leyawiin, having to move slower than a drunk mammoth was infuriating to him. But eventually, Lord Naarifin and his men had made it to Bravil.

Now, the Aldmeri army sat outside of the city and waited for the Countess Sabrina Catius to send respond to Lord Naarifin's demands. While he had originally planned on sacking the city and conquering it by force, as he had done with Leyawiin, the Thalmor Council had ordered him to try and take the city peacefully. With the new plan to conquer all of Cyrodiil, the Council wanted to keep as much of the province intact as possible. So, Lord Naarifin had been forced to simply demand that the Countess surrendered her city. Secretly, he hoped she refused. Lord Naarifin wanted to purge the province of as many humans as possible, as well as getting rid of their base culture.

Luckily, it seemed he was likely going to get his wish. The messenger had been sent to deliver the message two days ago, informing the Countess that if she didn't send a reply within three days, the Dominion forces would storm the city. When the messenger had returned to Lord Naarifin, he informed Naarifin that the Countess had seemed infuriated with the demands and was not likely to accept them. If she did refuse, Lord Naarifin had every right to take that city by force and kill every soul inside those walls. In the meantime, he had to deal with making sure his army survived the coming winter.

Lord Naarifin was standing with his advisors around a table with a map of the Nibenay Valley on it. It was a fertile region, with many farms providing food for Bravil and the rest of Cyrodiil. Naarifin knew that Bravil likely had tremendous foodstores that could keep them fed for several months. However, his men had no such supplies. They had been expecting a quick campaign in Cyrodiil, and as such hadn't brought supplies for a drawn-out engagement. They would receive supplies from the south to help them out eventually, but Naarifin couldn't rely on those. So, he was planning on taking the farms and their crops in order to feed his army. Hence his meeting.

"Lord Naarifin," one of his advisors, Lord Aeldis spoke, "I believe we can send out a few platoons to take control of these eastern farmsteads. With those under our control, we can have the fifth brigade help keep the supply lines clear of bandits and pests. That should help keep our army fed."

Lord Naarifin nodded. Lord Aeldis was one of Naarifin's most trusted advisors, and had seen countless battles as one of the Aldmeri Dominion's premier generals. He had been born a few years before the Oblivion Crisis and had been an active part in helping create the Aldmeri Dominion for the past hundred-fifty years. He had worked with Naarifin for many of those years, and the two were very close. There was nobody Naarifin trusted more, save Lilitha. "That's a solid plan. See it done. Meanwhile, Lady Shasara," he turned to look at the Altmer women on his left, "how are we doing on supplies right now?"

Lady Shasara shrugged nonchalantly. She was in charge of the logistics of fielding an army. She was relaxed and often feigned ignorance, but Naarifin knew that she was a brilliant woman with a keen eye for numbers. Shasara was one of the most capable people he knew when it came to dealing with bureaucracy as well, a good trait for the person in charge of acquiring supplies. "We are in good shape for now. With our current rationing, we should have enough food for the next few weeks. Unfortunately, we've had to take to boiling all our water. It seems that the water was the source of the disease last week."

Lord Naarifin raised an eyebrow. "You mean our nice, clean water supplies somehow gave men the disease? Water that was fine just over a week ago?"

Lady Shasara nodded. "Yes, and I know the point you are getting at. I agree. I think someone poisoned the water."

Lord Naarifin swore under his breath. He had enough problems to deal with, without adding on a saboteur ruining the army's supplies. If his men did get the supplies from the local farms, it wouldn't do to have those same same supplies ruined by some agent of the Empire. Especially if that agent happened to be a Blade. "Lord Coreman, can you have your Justiciars begin to look for the saboteur? I have a feeling that we are likely going to be dealing with a Blade agent."

The Thalmor Lord nodded. He was a tall, thin man wearing the black and gold robes of a Justiciar. He was also the newest of Naarifin's advisors. Coreman was a powerful wizard and well renowned for his devotion to the Thalmor. That was something that Naarifin respected. However, Coreman reported directly to the Council, not to Naarifin. He was here to serve as head of their Justiciars in the field, not to serve at Naarifin's pleasure. That concerned Naarifin. He had to trust the men and women who served him, and they had to trust him. But, if Coreman was working for somebody else, that trust was non-existent. That made Lore Coreman's position as the head of a secret police and special operations group even more disturbing. "Lord Naarifin, I will heed your request and have my agents begin sweeping the camp. However, if these were the actions of a lone agent, I doubt we will find much. I recommend increasing the number of soldiers we have on guard duty."

Lord Naarifin agreed. He finished the meeting with his advisors and then dismissed them to carry out their tasks. He let out a long sigh as he settled into a chair. The day-to-day management of this grand army was even more draining than fighting in a battle. Dealing with constant issues of managing supplies, keeping the troops from getting too rowdy, and weighing risks and rewards when making strategic choices. It was an important duty he had, and he did it to the best of his abilities. However, the choices weighed on him. He had sent more than a few soldiers of the Dominion to death's door, knowing that they were going to die. It was the price they had to pay to take back what the Mer had lost. It was a noble cause, and their deaths were never in vain. But that knowledge didn't help when he had to write letters to loved ones, telling them someone wasn't coming home.

Naarifin was stirred from his thoughts by the entrance of Lilitha. She walked over to him and knelt down. "Are you okay my love?" She asked, concern in voice.

Naarifin gave her a small smile and took her hand in his own. "I'm fine dear. Just mulling over the decisions this war has forced me to make." He stood up, bringing her up with him. He gave her a kiss before breaking contact and smiling more broadly. "I promise, I am okay. I just was taking a moment to relax."

Lilitha seemed relieved. "I just worry about you sometimes. I know it isn't easy having to handle the toppling of an empire, no matter how weak it is." She smiled and cupped his face in one of her hands. "Remember, I am always here for you. I won't let you be fed to the wolves."

Naarifin pulled her close and began to give her a rather passionate kiss. However, just as things were beginning to move, a messenger walked into the tent and cleared his throat. Naarifin broke off, and snapped at the poor mer. "What?"

The messenger quickly took a knee and bowed his head. "My apologies Lord Naarifin. I didn't mean to interrupt anything. I simply bring urgent news. A messenger has come from Bravil, from the Countess."

Naarifin gave an apologetic glance to his wife, but Lilitha simply waved it away. "Go, go. It is for the good of the Dominion, I understand. Just, don't stay busy for too long tonight." With that his wife gave him a kiss and left the command tent. Naarifin smiled after her, then turned to the messenger.

"When did the messenger arrive, and where is he currently?" Naarifin asked.

"He arrived only a few minutes ago. I got here as quickly as I could from the south side of the camp. The messenger is being held by Lord Coreman's Justiciars there, near the entrance."

"Okay, lead me there." The messenger stood up and held open the entrance to the tent for Lord Naarifin. Naarifin nodded his approval, and then the young man led him to the entrance to the camp. Along the way, Naarifin saw the state of his camp and was pleased. His soldiers seemed to be behaving themselves and in a good state of discipline. They all showed him the proper respect, and they all looked to be in good health. It was nice to see after the illness that had riddled many of them only a few days earlier.

Once Naarifin arrived at the outskirts where the messenger was, he dismissed his own runner. The man from Bravil was a slim figure, and appeared to actually be a Bosmer. Naarifin frowned at that. He knew that members of the Dominion races lived in the Empire and were actually loyal to it, but he had never been unable to understand why. More importantly, the fact that Countess Sabrina had sent a Bosmer to carry her message was significant. It could mean many things, but it definitely showed that she was calculating enough to recognize a potential asset when she saw it. Lord Coreman's Justiciars saw Naarifin and knelt. The Bosmer saw the action and quickly figured out who Lord Naarifin was. He quickly knelt and kept his head bowed until Naarifin spoke.

"Get up and deliver your message." Naarifin said sternly. He didn't want to waste any time. If the Countess refused to surrender, Naarifin wanted to strike as soon as possible.

"Lord Naarifin, the Countess begs your indulgence. She instructed me to inform you that she believes a peace can be achieved here, if only you will stay your hand for awhile longer. She says that she can't fulfill every term of your demands, but that, as a gesture of good faith, she would be willing to share some of Bravil's food supplies with your troops for the coming Winter. She also has asked for me to extend an invitation for you to meet with her to discuss the possible annexation of Bravil into your grand Dominion for a week from tonight. That is all your highness."

Lord Naarifin resisted the urge to gut the Bosmer. He knew that he shouldn't kill the messenger, and he knew the Thalmor Council would be urging him to accept the meeting instead of just breaking down the walls of the city and taking Bravil by force. It was infuriating. But, he had a duty to his nation, and to his people. He had to do as they required him to do. "Tell the Countess that I accept her invitation. I will meet with her to dine and discuss the terms of Bravil's surrender this following Loredas. Now go." He spoke and waved a dismissing hand towards the Bosmer.

The messenger stood and bowed to Naarifin before leaving the camp and heading the short distance to Bravil's gate. Naarifin watched as he left and thought about how he was going to handle this meeting. It was likely nothing more than a ploy by the Countess to bide her city time with Legions from the north came to her aid, but on the off-chance she was actually interested in giving Bravil over peacefully, he had to figure out a way to convince her. That would be tricky. Lord Naarifin called for another meeting of his advisors. They had new business to discuss.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Unfortunately, last week I was extremely busy, and then extremely sick, and I didn't have the time or motivation to write anything. Anyways, as always, I hoped you enjoy what you read. If you did, or if you didn't, please let me know with a review! And if you want to keep up-to-date with this story, please give it a follow! Thanks!**


	7. Winter's Chill

**Chapter 7: Winter's Chill**

Winter had placed its icy grip on Tamriel's heartland, and the Aldmeri Dominion's advance had been forced to a stop much to Emperor Titus Mede II's relief. Winter's in Cyrodiil weren't particularly harsh, with only the northern parts of the province seeing snowfall. However, the temperature did drop and the southern parts saw a lot of cold rainstorms. Right now, that rain was keeping all of the forces at play in the war from doing anything.

Emperor Titus Mede II had been spending his days going over reports and working on strategy with his generals. Day after day, reports came in detailing just how far the Aldmeri Dominion's armies had gone into Cyrodiil and Hammerfell. First it had been the decimation of the First Legion at the border between Cyrodiil and Valenwood. Then it had been the fall of Leyawiin and Rihad, quickly followed by the destruction of Taneth. Now, Gilane had been occupied by the Dominion for the winter and Bravil was under siege. A siege, that the Emperor was currently listening to his generals debate on whether or not to break.

"We don't have the manpower to help Bravil! If we try to fight the Aldmeri Dominion there, we'll only lose more legionnaires and lose Bravil anyways. Best to keep the Second and Third Legion garrisoned here, and wait until the spring for reinforcements from Skyrim."

"We have to help Bravil. If we don't, then we leave the Niben defenseless. The Aldmeri fleet will sail up the river and drop an invasion force on our doorstep and we won't be able to hold the Imperial City against them."

"We should help Bravil, but not right now. Let's wait until the spring when our reinforcements come, and then strike south. The Dominion army won't be able to make any moves during the winter, and Countess Catius can bide us time to attack."

One opinion after another came to the Emperor from his generals. All of them firmly believed their opinion was the right one, and that following any other opinion would spell disaster for the Empire. Titus could only pray that he made the right decision. He knew how important Bravil was, and he had once courted the Countess. If he made the wrong decision, he lost both.

"Alright. I've made my decision. We'll bide our time, and hope that we can get to Bravil in the spring. In the mean-time, make sure our fleet is in peak condition. If we do lose Bravil, they'll be our last line of defense for keeping control of Rumare." With Titus' orders given, the generals and their assistants scrambled to see his will done. Now, Titus just had to wait and see if he had made the right decision.

* * *

The sun was a fiery sphere on the horizon when General Decianus and the remnants of the Tenth Legion saw the walls of Skaven rising out of the sand of the Alik'r. The last month had been quiet, as the survivors recovered in the care of the Alik'r tribe that had found them. Once the legionnaires had regained their strength, General Decianus had ordered them north once more. They had been marching for a few days, and had finally found their way to Skaven. From there, Decianus could request reinforcements from the Twelfth, Thirteenth, and Fourteenth Legions in High Rock.

It took another two hours, but eventually Decianus and his men arrived in Skaven. It was a small city, with most of the region it controlled being dedicated to farming. The walls were high though, and the people were hardy. It was as good a place as any for Decianus and his men to fortify while they waited for reinforcements. The people of Skaven were more than happy to have the extra defense of an Imperial Legion as they heard the stories coming from the south. They readily offered supplies and sanctuary to the legionnaires. Decianus was granted quarters in the local ruler's manse.

Decianus had just finished a letter to General Carius, the leader of the the Legions in High Rock and was currently on his way to where the legionnaires were garrisoned. He would find one of the Imperial Couriers there and send them north to carry the letter. Once he arrived at the garrison, Decianus was greeted with the sight of a Breton dressed in redguard clothing asking the legionnaires where they could find the general. Decianus walked up to him and spoke.

"You can find him here." General Decianus said, tapping the Breton on the shoulder. "What do you want?"

The man whirled around and his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly recovered and kneeled in front of General Decianus. "Sir, I was tasked by my lord to find you and deliver a message."

General Decianus gestured for the Breton to rise. "What is your name and who do you serve?"

"My name is Theodane, and I serve the Forebear leader, King Falten."

General Decianus raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what does King Falten want with me?"

"Sir, King Falten calls for your aid. The Forebears can't fight the Aldmeri Dominion alone. My lord is searching for any and all allies to help defeat the elven menace." Theodane paused for a moment before adding, "Including the Crowns."

General Decianus barely kept his jaw from hitting the floor. The Forebears and Crowns had fought each other for hundreds of years. He couldn't remember any time when the two factions had actually worked together. But, if Falten was willing to offer an olive branch to them, then the situation must be extremely grim, and it would take a united army to defeat the Dominion. "Okay. Falten`s got my support. What does he need done?"

* * *

Delphine was offering wine to Lord Naarifin and regretting not having poisoned it. The Altmer leader was having dinner with Countess Catius at her castle in Bravil. They were making polite conversation while dancing around the fact that Lord Naarifin had a sword held to the city's throat. It was a part of Imperial culture that had always frustrated Delphine. Imperial nobles never talked straight, and they always had ulterior motives. The Thalmor were no better, and just by watching Delphine could see that Lord Naarifin was talented at politics. Delphine was forced to leave the room though as the Countess called for privacy while she discussed the potential terms of the Aldmeri annexation of Bravil.

Delphine walked into the castle kitchen and then found a side room to change out of her servant outfit back into the guard outfit she had been wearing. Part of being a Blade agent was learning how to hide anywhere, including in the middle of a crowd. Delphine was very good at hiding in plain sight, and she knew it. That helped her retain the calm demeanor necessary to pull off the disguises she wore. It was what let her hide in the middle of the enemy's camp, and operate without getting caught.

Delphine had spent the past two weeks sneaking into the Aldmeri army's camp and sabotaging their supplies. She had poisoned their water, ruined their food, and made couriers delivering orders disappear. While her efforts had definitely been effective, they had also only been of mild annoyance to the army. The sabotage had slowed the army's devastating invasion down, but it wasn't going to stop them. So, Delphine had to step up her efforts.

Delphine walked into an abandoned shack in Bravil. It was a small, wooden hovel that looked like a strong wind would knock it over. But it had stayed standing for quite some time. Now, it was the secret base for Delphine's operations. Inside, there was only a bed and a small desk. But on that desk, were the forged letters, schematics, and plans, Delphine needed to temporarily hamstring the Aldmeri Dominion's advance. So she sat down and got to work.

* * *

 **A/N: And so, the first year of the Great War has come to an end. There are other things happening at this point as well, but we'll see more about that in later chapters. Anyways, I just wanted to let you guys know, I am going to begin releasing updates once every other week. I am returning to school so I will be busier and have less time to write. Also, I am beginning work on another story, and my time will be split between the two. But, this story will always take priority, so don't worry. I appreciate everybody who has read this story so far, and I try to make sure every new chapter is a good read for those of you who have been following along week-to-week.**

 **As always, please leave a review letting me know what you think, and if you want to keep up-to-date, please give this story a follow :)**


	8. Cabin Fever

**Chapter 8: Cabin Fever**

Lady Arannelya was going insane. It had been a surprisingly fast process, having only taken a few months as winter forced her to sit idle. The agonizing days had been filled with a seemingly endless tide of tedious requests and decisions. There had always been someone who wanted something, or someone who hadn't gotten what they deserved. More than a few times fights had broken out and she had to sign execution orders. That had always bothered her. After all, why have an army full of soldiers if not for them to fight other soldiers?

Luckily, it seemed that that opportunity was presenting itself now. The weather had finally cleared up and the seas surrounding Hammerfell were calm. It was now time to finish tying up loose strings from the initial invasion of Hammerfell. Lady Arannelya was currently in the process of getting the Dominion fleet docked at Gilane prepared to launch an invasion of Stros M'Kai.

During the initial invasion of Hammerfell, Stros M'Kai had been one of the initial targets. However, with winter approaching and all its poor weather, it was decided to postpone that event in order to ensure the invasion force reached the mainland. Now the weather was no longer an issue and Arannelya was eager to see another city fall to the Dominion. Her advisors appeared eager as well.

"Lady Arannelya, the captains have all submitted their reports. It appears that the fleet is ready to move." Lady Arannelya's advisor of the navy, Lord Nelinar, informed her. He was a cautious man who preferred to fight defensively, much to Arannelya's frustration. But even he looked pleased by the prospect of attacking Stros M'Kai.

Another of Arannelya's advisors, Lord Tildur began his report. "The soldiers are ready as well. They're eager to shed some blood and bring some glory to their name." Lord Tildur was Arannelya's advisor in charge of the land forces. He was a giant of a mer, clearing seven feet tall and being built of huge slabs of muscle. That figure combined with his often aggressive attitude and ruthless brilliance had made him one of the Dominion's greatest warriors. "The sooner we get to Stros M'Kai so that they can blow off a little steam, the better."

The last of Arannelya's main advisors spoke up. "The Council will want the attack to happen as soon as possible as well." Lady Irinwen was the leader of the Thalmor agents assigned to support Arannelya's army. Irinwen was also tasked with keeping tabs on Arannelya and reporting her actions to the Council. Arannelya didn't trust her, but then again, Arannelya didn't trust anybody. "Also, the agents stationed in Stros M'Kai have reported that the island has few defenses. Apparently, a tremendous storm swept across the island and devastated the fleet that was stationed there. We should press the advantage quickly."

Lady Arannelya face lit up with a smile. "Excellent. It'll be good to have someone to fight. Give the orders. I want the army in ships and sailing to Stros M'Kai by sunset. While they're getting ready, let's go over the attack plan…"

* * *

"Damn that woman to Oblivion!" Shouted King Falten as he slammed the letter he had just finished reading onto his desk. It was the most recent letter in a set of exchanges between him and Queen Malikah of Helgathe. Malikah was a proud woman, and she was very passionately refusing to aid the Forebears. With the conflict having lasted so long, the grudges ran deep and strong, especially in the Queen of Helgathe.

King Falten hadn't helped matters for the majority of his life. Ever since he could remember, he had been taught that the Crowns were pompous, xenophobic, traditionalists who were too stubborn to see that the world had left them behind. Meanwhile, he was sure, Queen Malikah had been taught that the Forebears were rash, heretical, sycophants who didn't respect their heritage. To add to the problem, were the frequent clashes between the two groups. It had caused such a huge divide between the two factions that any attempt to reconcile had ended in bloodshed. Trying to overcome that gap was tiring Falten. He had sent four letters pleading assistance and Queen Malikah had sent four replies telling him that the Forebears would have to solve their own problems.

This most recent letter had been very firm in that regard. Malikah had told Falten to stop asking for aid since she was never going to change her mind. She had told him how the Crowns would fight the war by themselves and show that they were the better people if the Dominion dared show their faces on Crown territory. Falten knew it was never going to happen. The Crowns had a fairly large army, but they didn't have nearly enough to fight off the invasion they were facing. But Falten also knew there was no way he could convince Malikah to accept the assistance of people who she considered her enemies.

So, King Falten was forced to sit idle. The past few months hadn't allowed for him or his men to fight the Aldmeri Dominion, and he was sure that the Dominion army would be moving soon. King Falten and his small army wouldn't be able to do much of anything to them, so he had decided to wait until he could figure out a better alternative. Now, he had no better alternative, no alliance, and no way to fight his enemies. It was a slow torture of his soul. Before he could dwell too long on this though, there was a knock on his door.

"Come in." He called. The door opened and a servant walked into the room. He was carrying a folded note that he handed to King Falten.

"Here you are, your highness." Spoke the servant, quietly.

"Thank you, thank you. You're dismissed." The servant left and King Falten opened the note. It was from General Decianus and reading it made King Falten feel better. The letter was a notice that said General Decianus would be more than happy to work with the Forebears to fight against the Dominion threat. It also had a brief message from Theodane who was going to stay with Decianus in order to help better coordinate the Legions and the Forebears in their cooperation.

King Falten gave a small sigh of relief. "Thank the gods, finally some good news." King Falten stood up and paced the room for a few minutes before sitting back down to write a letter. After all, he had to try and save his country whether Queen Malikah liked it or not…

* * *

Argus Vahlok was sitting at a table arguing with his friends. Specifically, he was sitting at a table in the Cheydinhal chapter of the Fighter's Guild's barracks. The food was good, the drink was better, and the company was the best available. Unfortunately, said company wasn't on board with Argus' ideas about how to operate during the war.

"Oh come on guys. The Empire is in trouble, and we can help! We have a duty to our people! Besides, it's a good paying contract!" Argus said passionately. He was gesturing wildly and pounding the table to add emphasis. His group was used to this however, and they were unimpressed.

"Money is no good if I'm dead. And, my people are the Altmer. So shouldn't I be fighting on the side of the Dominion?" Asked one member of the group, an Altmer mage named Aethera. She had a smug look on her face as she challenged Argus.

"Yes, and my people are Khajiit. So I would be with Aethera on this one." Spoke up another member. This time, it was the archer of the group, a Khajiit named S'Hizziro. "Perhaps, we could find love as comrades in a war eh?" He turned to Aethera and gave her a sly smile.

The mage just rolled her eyes as S'Hizziro purred at her. The other two members of the group, a Nord spellsword named Ned, and a Redguard fighter named Thurin just looked at each other and shook their heads. They were used to this kind of behavior as it was very common for the Khajiit to constantly joke around, while Aethera was always looking for an argument. The two could go back and forth for hours.

"Guys, I'm serious. If the Dominion takes Cyrodiil, we're all out of a job." Argus gestured at the room around them. "This will all be gone under the Dominion's thumb. We're good fighters and this is good money."

The others still looked hesitant. They weren't legionnaires. Only Ned and Argus were from Cyrodiil. Why should they bother fighting in this war? They had no stake in the fight and no amount of money was going to change that. Except that they did have reasons, and Argus knew it even if they didn't.

"Aethera, come on. Don't you want revenge for what happened to your family in Sentinel? S'Hizziro, don't you want more for your people than to be glorified slaves to sycophants? And Ned, Thurin, what about your homes? The Dominion is going to destroy them. We all have reasons to fight this war. It's what we need to do."

Thurin spoke up, his deep voice rumbling like thunder. "He's right. We need to do something about the Dominion." Ned nodded his agreement.

Aethera sighed. "Fine, fine. Alright. I'm in."

S'Hizziro smiled a ferocious smile. "Yes! Battle is good for us. It brings us all closer together. Also, money!"

"Thank you. Now, let's talk about what we're going to do…"

* * *

 **A/N: And here is Chapter 8, introducing Lady Arannelya and the previously mentioned OC's. There will be one other main character who will appear later, but that likely won't be for awhile. Meaning, for now, the next chapters will resume the format of just being told from one character's point of view as they deal with a major event. As always, I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did or even if you didn't, let me know with a review! Also, keep up-to-date by following.**

 **P.S: If you recognized the name "Argus Vahlok or S'Hizziro," then "Hail EoT :)"**


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